Nothing Left to Heal
by Fledgling
Summary: [Post GSD, Oneshot] It's hard being alone. It's even harder to forgive yourself, when others have already done so. “He didn’t feel found, he felt lost, and he couldn’t understand how Athrun could still smile. Shinn felt like he’d forgotten how.”


A/N: Revised Jan.09, 2006. Enormous thanks to maDeeneR- for her wonderful review, and for pointing out what was missing in the story. Thanks to everyone that's reviewed and faved it so far!

Word count: 1, 787

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_Nothing Left to Heal_

Shinn fingered the half-cold cup in his hand, gently hooking a pinkie around the handle and watching the brown contents ripple. The dark-haired boy sat hunched at a rectangular dining table, a single lamp emanating warm, watery light. It made the apartment look even messier in it's small, unkempt glory, and Shinn threw a look at the body curled up on his couch. The sleeper's body rose and fell with each breath.

Athrun had come over earlier that day, lugging a plastic bag containing instant coffee and several containers of leftovers. Shinn stood there, feeling indecent in his crumpled t-shirt and shorts, but Athrun stumbled in without comment, still dripping from the rain.

"I've got something important to tell you, and I bought coffee," he'd mumbled, not looking at Shinn and shaking his head, blue locks black with moisture. "And Cagalli gave me the food," he said, dropping the bag on a clear space of counter. "Thought you'd need it. Something about eating cup noodles all day."

Then he smiled, shaking Shinn awake, making him apologize and run to straighten things up.

Whatever had been so important, however, was never said as the two settled into what Shinn thought was a rather comfortable silence, each with their cups of steaming coffee. The rain battled on outside. The leftovers (some rice and meat pie, still warm) had been opened but never eaten, and Shinn watched it with an odd feeling in his gut, thinking about his cold lunch of instant noodles, its empty flavour packet lying askew.

They talked about Lunamaria. She'd flown to visit Meyrin a few days ago, and would be staying for the rest of the week.

"How's she doing?" Athrun asked.

"She's all right," Shinn replied, slightly grateful for talk. "She called this morning, and she sounded happy." He paused. "And…I'm happy living with her," Shinn added, even though Luna wasn't even there at the moment and Athrun hadn't asked. "It's…good," he said lamely.

Athrun nodded. "I see," he said, and turned his bright green eyes to the wall behind Shinn, making the dark-haired boy slump, transparent no longer.

Then they talked about Meyrin. Athrun commented how kind and strong she was, and Shinn silently agreed, listening to Athrun talk, feeling glad he wasn't expected to respond. He had been surprised too, when Luna told him about Meyrin's sudden departure two months ago, having joined Orb's relief group to build up the communities torn apart by guerrilla wars. Apparently, it was Meyrin who approached Cagalli with the idea first.

"She's a spirited young woman," Athrun said. "The world needs more people like her."

Shinn wondered if Athrun was thinking about the same thing, about how Meyrin had risked everything, even her life, to save the mobile suit pilot she barely knew. He squirmed, stomach clenching, remembering the awful, horrifying guilt—but Athrun was talking again, dragging Shinn out of his plunging emotions.

"…Lacus has recently taken an interest in exotic cooking," he was saying, and his normally guarded face was alight with amusement. "—and she's dragging Cagalli along with her." He shook his head, laughing. "I had no idea that curry could taste so strange," he made a face, "but apparently, it can, and it's supposed to be spicier, too." He then asked Shinn if he'd heard about Vino's new girlfriend, a cheerful, voluptuous blonde, and Shinn nodded, recalling her face, saying yes, she's quite pretty.

But then he thought about Stellar, and his hands stroking her soft blonde hair for the last time. Bitter feelings laced with guilt seeped into his mind, and Shinn's stomach convulsed, a grimace appearing on his face. He could still remember how oddly she smelled that time, dying breath filled with chemicals he couldn't identify, the acidic scent frozen in his mind forever. It wasn't how he wanted to remember her. But then, his memories with her were little and few, most of them filled with a hysterical girl he couldn't recognize, feral and inhuman. Every time he tried to help her, he was frightened of those glassy eyes and terrified she wouldn't return to normal. It reminded Shinn of himself, and he'd panic, wondering when the inevitable would happen. He'd slip through the loop, and be gone forever.

Athrun was looking at him anxiously.

"Shinn?"

"I'm fine," he said quickly, blinking. His smile was still more like a grimace of pain, so Shinn tried to make it natural; and found he couldn't. The muscles twitched. His forehead felt tight.

"Really," he said. The words sounded quiet and weak. "I'm just…" Shinn tried to think of a realistic excuse, but his thoughts slipped away from him. "Nothing."

"Oh."

To Shinn's immense relief, Athrun let it drop. Mechanically, he tried to sound genuinely interested as he asked Athrun a vague question. Eyes still intense with concern and glowing dimly in the light, Athrun spoke quickly, soon moving on to another topic while Shinn struggled to focus. He wasn't tired, he was simply distracted and restless, filled with a sore, tense fatigue. He felt cold and out of place for a moment as he watched his friend; Luna's absence made him feel empty.

At one point, while Athrun was talking about how Kira and himselfhad dropped a set of plates last week, he froze, looking at Shinn's hands for a moment, then trailed into awkward, embarrassed laughter. When Shinn frowned, confused and faintly amused, Athrun shook his head, setting his mug with a thump onto the table and running a hand through his hair.

"I brought you coffee," he said, apologetically.

Shinn blinked.

"You have insomnia, and I brought you coffee." He shook his head again, as if doing that could shake off his mistake. "I'm sorry," he said, laughing a little. "I didn't know what I was thinking, really…"

Not long after that, Athrun fell asleep, though he had said he was only going to "rest". Shinn had no idea how he could sleep after consuming so much caffeine, but then again, Athrun was busy and relied upon, unlike himself. He poked a finger between the blinds, looking out at thinning rain, and glanced at his watch. When Athrun arrived, it was only late afternoon, but the sky was dark already, and now, at six in the evening, everything was pitch black.

Shinn never asked why Athrun came. He knew, as Athrun sat there, sometimes silent, sometimes chatty, that the former ZAFT soldier was worried about him. In another time and place, Shinn might have been annoyed, even angry that Athrun was being so kind; but now, he knew better, and felt no enmity towards his friend. But now Athrun was unconscious, and Shinn was alone again; he had no small, meaningless talk to comfort him. He bowed his head, hair falling and dangling before his eyes, and he closed them, squeezed them tightly, willing the rising lump in his throat to go away.

Shinn must have been crazy, but he had expected everything to go back to normal—no, even better than normal—now that the war was over. Somehow, he'd convinced himself that everything would be fine, that he'd be able to leave the dark memories behind, and a new life would be just around the corner, waiting to find him. But Shinn didn't feel found; he felt lost, more lost than ever, like a trapped bird wanting to flee. He didn't know what he'd fought so hard for; no, in fact, he'd never known what he was fighting for. The Chairman and Rey's words helped him at the time, justified what he was doing and made him feel in control, but he was now sure that their words were empty from the beginning. They must have known he had no purpose at all, that it was in a stifling box of a mobile suit that he felt most unstable. And Shinn couldn't change this, even if he'd cared enough to try. Even when a tiny, nagging fear told him he was wrong, he ignored it, left it alone until he felt only joy at demolishing a life, bright medals rewarding his "good work".

What good work? He had done nothing that could be of merit; the closest good Shinn had ever succeeded in was perhaps, rescuing Stellar, and that he would never regret. But he seethed at the cruelty of the mysterious man in the black mask—how could he still send her back into battle? Was that all she was worth? As a fighting machine? Shinn shook, a sharp pounding beginning in his temples. As much as he tried, he couldn't prevent himself from dwelling on the thought. How could it possibly be fair for the value of human life to drop--just because a war was going on?

"Mayu…" he whispered. Her smile was embedded in his mind, but seeing her damaged body, in the ruins, had scarred it forever.

Shinn opened his eyes and stared at the irregular pebbles of water lying still on his tan-brown table, magnifying the grains in the wood. His eyelashes were damp. Shinn turned his head weakly to look at Athrun, feeling oddly bound by the dried trails on his cheek, and he gasped and started to cry again, covering his mouth frantically with his hands, not wanting to be caught like this. Tears, hot and violent spilled out of his eyes and slithered into his fingers, running over his skin and disappearing into his shirt. Shinn rocked back and forth, silently sobbing, the tears suddenly coming too fast. He couldn't stop them.

But then again, he couldn't stop anything, could he? Shinn Asuka had no control.

He didn't feel found, he felt lost; and he couldn't understand how Athrun could still smile. Shinn felt like he'd forgotten how. He buried his head in his arms, as if he could somehow smother the emotions beating inside him, when there was a creak and a rustle and he turned to see Athrun kneeling before him, expression inscrutable.

"Athrun…" Shinn said shakily.

Gently nudging the table away, Athrun suddenly pulled Shinn into a fierce hug, the kind someone would give to an abandoned child, warm and full of love. Shinn felt Athrun's chin digging into his shoulder, felt Athrun's strong fingers pressing into his back, and awkwardly, he raised his arms. He smelled Athrun's shampoo, the clean scent of laundry detergent, and a gentle whiff of cologne.

"It's all right, Shinn," Athrun was saying, softly, but the words sounded stiff and muffled, like he was in pain. Shinn clutched tighter, and bit his quivering lip. "It means you're healing. You have your whole life ahead of you now."

But Shinn only cried harder, aching for everything that he'd lost.

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A/N: The significance of the last line comes from Fukuda's interview, in which he said that Shinn, at the end of Destiny, lost everything except for Lunamaria (which had been the plan). You'll find, however, that Luna is suspiciously absent in this fic and that just about everyone has "healed" or is in the process of "healing", except for Shinn. You'll also notice that of all the people to comfort dear Shinn, it's Athrun. I didn't do this just because Athrun is the second angstiest character, but because, of all people, Athrun is the only one that truly understands Shinn, and is close enough to help him. In Destiny, Shinn was always incapable of listening to Athrun without going into SEED mode, but there was still, somehow, a closeness between the two of them, and that's what I tried to convey in this fic.

Crit welcome and sought-for, as usual, and I hope you enjoyed reading this!


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